Rescue Team Freedom: Ravages of War
by WedgePalmer
Summary: I wanted to write a mystery-dungeon style fic, so here's my attempt: When an evil warlord gathers an Army of Pokemon and invades the region of Kind, can a tiny rescue-team formed by a Cyndaquil and his manservant Treecko fight the darkness? RnR!
1. Comrades in Arms

**I wanted to do a Mystery-Dungeon**** style fic, and decided to play on peace and war. For most chapters, I will have at least one theme-tune, and so the one for this chapter is "FF7 Soundtrack: Judgement Day".**

**I'm going to try and fit in as many FF(7) tracks as I can into this story XD**

The grey sky was awash with vapour and smoke trails from missiles streaking in mighty arcs, to smash into the little town like godly fists. The town itself was huddled on a cliff; a crowd of slated roofs that crouched behind a strong-looking, but undefended wall. There came a high-pitched screech, and a projectile dropped inside the settlement. The ground shook and a resounding crash reverberated around the surrounding area. A few pieces of debris spiralled skywards, to patter down in the river that separated the attackers and the besieged. The river itself was clean-looking and nice, but when you factored in the rusted hulks of ships and floating, bullet-riddled corpses of pokemon, the whole place looked foreboding. Atop the cliff opposite the town, another cluster of derelict-looking houses sat; hunched like crows. This had once been part of 'St. Garden' town, but over time, the cliffs had widened and the bridge connecting the two halves had fallen away. This section of St. Garden had simply been left to fall into disrepair, and this was where the unknown force had set up shop, so-to-speak.

They had come from the sea, a few days before, and landed on this side of the river. They did not have one particular type, but seemed to be an organised; multi-elemental army. They had demanded money, food and surrender, and when Garden had refused; they had set up their massive, super-heavy artillery piece and proceeded to bomb the town.

But the town had one last hope. Their pleas for help had been heard, and the UPDF were on their way. The United Pokemon Defence Force was the Territorial Army for the region of Kind, and they protected it fiercely. However; the lush, fertile land had attracted many invasions, and their ranks had been thinned by war. They had taken to recruiting young or weak Pokemon, and training them in the field, to boulster their numbers.

Some townspeople had objected to the scheme, claiming it would take too long for a large enough force to be dispatched and defeat these invaders. The mayor of St.Garden had told the town to be patient, but some of the younger, braver Pokemon of the town had held a town meeting of their own. They selected six candidates, who were stronger than the rest, and assigned them a mission: destroy the gun.

And so they obeyed. Unknown to the enemy watchers, a rotting old rowboat, painted black like the night, slipped across the river and crunched up the pebble beach a few feet. The black tarpaulin that covered its occupants was thrown back, and they revealed themselves: a Rattata with cameo paint smeared over its bulging cheeks, a small but determined-looking Pidgey in a beret, a dark green Treecko with a black balaclava and a katana sheathed across his back. There was a small, terrified-looking Dratini, too, and beside her was her friend, the totally unfazed-seeming Bagon, who wore a purple cloak around his shoulders. The final member of the insertion team was the first to leap from the rowboat: A tiny, determined-looking Cyndaquil. The flames on his back were little more than a glow, so as not to alert the sentries to their position, and even then he had shrugged on a black cloak over the top of them.

"Sssh! Stop!" he hissed, suddenly "everyone drop!"

The townsfolk obliged, quickly flattening themselves to the ground. A moment later, a search-light swept the pebbles. It passed over them without stopping, and they leaped up and ran forwards, to the cliff, where they flattened themselves as the cone of illumination passed over their previous position again.

"Let's go, the gate to the cliff path is this way…" the little fire-type declared. He led them west, following the curve of the cliff, until they reached a chain-link fence that surrounded the bottom of a small footpath. A single guard house had been erected beside it, and a sentry snoozed inside.

"Treecko?" asked Cyndaquil. The grass-type nodded and there was a hiss of steel as his Katana was drawn. He slipped inside the guard house, and seconds later, the Nuzleaf was dead. Treecko emerged with the key, which he slipped into his leaders paw.

"…so yeah, I told him…" a muffled voice said. They all spun round and saw a pair of guards returning from their patrol, behind them on the beach: A Nuzleaf and a Machop.

"Rush them!" Cyndaquil ordered. Pidgey and Treecko tackled the muscular Machop, and beheaded him before he could even realise he was under attack. The Nuzleaf opened his mouth to shout the alarm, half-drawing a revolver from his green cloak, when a spear imbedded itself in his throat. His planned roar came out as a hoarse rasping noise.

"…_alarm…_" he managed, struggling with the weapon in his neck. Bagon ripped it free and then finished the injured grass-type with a blow from the haft of his weapon. His family came from a long line of fishing-boat owners, and as such they took an interest in spears and rods. This was one such spear; borrowed from his parents' living room. The Machop was unarmed, but the gun which the Nuzleaf had been about to draw was fully loaded. Rattata took this weapon and held it as though it were a rifle; it was so big in proportion to him. The attackers did not react at all to the bloody deaths they had so far inflicted: these soldiers had committed worse atrocities with their cannon.

"There might be more guards down here…" Cyndaquil hissed.

"Maybe we should hold up the attack and sweep the beach" whispered Rattata, nervously fingering the trigger of his Revolver. Bagon snorted, nastily;

"Don't be stupid, Ratter." He laughed "We can't waste any time"

"Don't call me stupid, you inbred arrogant twerp." Ratter hissed. Bagon stiffened and clutched his spear.

"Want to call me that again?"

"Both of you shut up!" Cyndaquil ordered "We've got a mission to do and we don't need you fighting."

Ratter and Bagon glared daggers at one another then looked away. Rattata was the butt of most of Bagon's jokes, because he was from a poor farming family, whereas Bagon's parents were the richest in all of St.Garden.

"Right" Cyndaquil muttered, after taking a breath "we're going to need this beach secure, so that we can escape this way after the cannon is destroyed. Pidgey, stay here and keep watch, and kill any guards that come down here."

The brown-feathered bird nodded, expression serious, and went to sit in the guard hut. Cyndaquil smiled, satisfied, and turned to the gate, key in hand. It turned smoothly in the rusted lock, and the gate swung open of its own accord.

"Bagon, Treecko; take point" he ordered "Dratini and Rattata at the rear, I'll go in the center."

No-one complained. Although he wasn't the toughest of the bunch, he was the most tactical, and had a quiet, inner strength that allowed him to stay calm in dangerous situations. He was a born leader, that's what his parents had used to stay. Now they were dead; killed in the blast of one of those mighty shells. It had been a terrible event, but he was done grieving, and had decided to repay the debt by killing these monsters that called themselves an army. Armies should protect people was his opinion, but this one was slaying them like common bandits might, except on a larger scale. Cyndaquil was not armed, so he scanned the area beyond the gate. Against the natural wall provided by the cliff were a couple of bolt-action rifles, with attached bayonets: obviously put there for the observer in the guardhouse. Cyndaquil took one, weighed it in his paws and sighted down its barrel. He had practise with rifles, his parents had owned a shooting club. These were crude and poorly-maintained, but this one would do for now. He berated himself for not bringing one of the ones which had survived the explosion intact, but retained his self-control.

"Let's move in" he whispered, the urge to avenge his parents rising to the surface of his mind again. The five of them crept onwards, up the grassy path.

The signs of enemy control here were evident. Where the path narrowed dangerously, a steel guardrail had been sunk into the edge of the cliff, to prevent accidents. They followed the path up to a flat patch of ground, where the route curved round, and they met a rock wall. There was no time to rest, so they continued to head round up the path.

"Who the hell are you?" a voice barked "Halt!"

They whirled, to see a figure atop the rock wall where the path curved round. The figure was flanked by a pair of Charmanders, and their tail flames illuminated him: a muscular Torchic, with a hefty machine gun cradled in his wings. Both his accomplices were equipped with rifles similar to the one Cyndaquil carried. There was an almost comical moment of awkward silence, then something must've clicked in the Torchic's mind.  
"ALARM!" he bawled "Kill them; INTRUDERS!"

Both the Charmanders raised their rifles, barrels glinting in the moonlight, and fired a pair of shots. One blew a fist-sized crater in the rock beside Cyndaquil; the other shot blew out Treecko's elbow. Blood, bright and crimson, splashed the grass and the grass-type swordsman fell with a grunt of pain.

"Return fire!" ordered Cyndaquil "Kill them!"

Rattata raised the revolver, and barked out a shot that smashed into the leg of one of the Charmanders. The other one fired back and the round barely missed Bagon.

"Screw you guys!" the Dragon type snarled "I'm outta here!"

"No!" shouted Cyndaquil, but his order fell on deaf ears. Bagon broke cover from the boulder that they huddled behind and sprinted down the path at a speed that seemed impossible to one with such stumpy legs. A few shots chased after him, but he made it through the gate without injury.

"Coward!" Spat Ratter. By now, the Torchic had begun to return fire. Automatic rounds pelted the boulder, spraying chips of rock and moss everywhere. Somewhere above them, in the base, an alarm began to hoot.

"We've got to get out of here now!" Cyndaquil growled. Then he had an idea: "Dratini, can you use Twister?"

"Yes, but…it's not a very powerful one. I'm pretty weak at attacking…" she stammered. Cyndaquil smiled.

"It doesn't have to be strong; they're on the edge of a cliff! Ratter, give her some covering fire!"

The normal type nodded and leapt from their cover; lying prone on the floor and firing a few shots at their opponents. Dratini's eyes glowed a menacing red, and the wind picked up. A round just missed her right ear, but she didn't flinch. She concentrated her fury and fear into the very air around her, and the wind, which was visible due to the small bits of debris it carried, began to swirl around the Torchic and his allies, and they stopped firing in fear. Torchic gave a frightened squawk as his gun was torn from his grasp. The injured Charmander growled in fear as he was scooped up and flung from the edge. The Torchic and his remaining bodyguard followed suit. After half a minute, the wind dropped to normal levels again.

"Well done, Dratini!" Cyndaquil beamed.

"Thanks…" she replied, weakly. Cyndaquil suddenly remembered Treecko. He turned to see the grass type standing again.

"Can you continue?" he asked his silent friend. Treecko had wrapped a bandage from somewhere inside his robe around the wounded elbow, and he gave a couple of experimental jabs with his other arm to test balance. Then he nodded grimly.

"Good, let's go." He said. Treecko was a tough guy. He was Cyndaquil's right hand man, and a better swordfighter he had never seen. He wore a tattered black cloak or robe, and a hood and balaclava over his face. His past was mysterious, but he had been abandoned as a baby, with just the sword he carried wrapped in that tattered old cloak he wore. Cyndaquil's parents had taken him in, and as such he had served them loyally. He was silent most of the time, but could speak if he wanted to. The other two he had known vaguely before the attack, but hadn't really spoken to them. Pidgey was a complete stranger who had been drafted in from the mail office and Bagon's family owned an old mansion on the outskirts of St.Garden. Where Cyndaquil's family had been modestly rich, the Bagon family flaunted their wealth. Doubtless Bagon would still claim that the attack was all down to his bravery when he got back, despite the fact that he had run off.

The group had gone no more than three steps from their rock, when a razor-sharp leaf scythed past. They began to fire up at the two enemy Pokemon who confronted them from behind; a Nuzleaf and a Machop.

"Deal with them, Treecko!" ordered Cyndaquil. Treecko ran forward, through the hail of bullets and razor leaves. He ran so quickly, he became almost invisible, then leapt between the pair and performed a graceful midair twist; hefty tail swinging like a club and blade scything down. The Machop, who clutched a machine gun in his muscular arms, was sent flailing off the edge of the cliff by the tail attack and the Nuzleaf's head rolled down to Cyndaquil's feet, face frozen in a surprised expression as his headless corpse toppled to one side. Dratini, Rattata and Cyndaquil hurried up to join their ninja-like companion as he wiped his Katana clean.

"That was a nice move you pulled there!" Ratter congratulated, grinning toothily. Treecko nodded his gratitude, swinging his long-handled blade to a ready position by his side. Above them, the alarm still barked its honking song and they could hear reinforcements clattering down in their direction.

"We've got company!" Cyndaquil sighed. He raised his rifle, Treecko maintained his steady breathing and raised his weapon to the sky, Rattata nervously checked ammunition and reloaded, and Dratini began to gather energy for some kind of attack. Ahead of them, the path straightened out into a small plateau, and wooden stairs lead up to the top of the cliff. The enemy swarmed down these stairs and began to fire guns and attacks in their direction.

"Charge!" roared Cyndaquil.

**Any ideas for custom characters?**

**I'm having a competition for one of my other stories for OC's and I thought****; what the hell, let's have one for this story too! Enter using this sheet:**

**  
Name:**

**Gender:**

**Pokemon:**

**Weapon (if any):**

**Favourite attacks:**

**Information/Bio:**


	2. Obesity and bears with guns!

**Theme for this part is "****FF7: Jenova absolute".**

The first foe to emerge from cover was a Lombre, clutching an axe in his webbed hands. Cyndaquil shot him through the head, causing a drizzle of blood to spatter the soldiers behind him. Automatic gunfire raked back and forth across his position, and Cyndaquil was forced to dive to one side. There was almost no cover on this part of the ascent to the top, so they had to keep low and keep moving in order not to be hit. He reached the next enemy; a short Machop, and thrust upwards. The fighting type flailed his arms and legs on the end of the bayonet, and Cyndaquil pulled the trigger and blew the dying pokemon from the end of his gun. A Nuzleaf swung at him with a sword from his right, and Cyndaquil turned and spat a hail of burning embers into his face. Screaming, the grass type stumbled off the edge of the cliff. Beside Cyndaquil, Ratter blew the head off another Machop, and was forced to use the pistol to block a bayonet thrust from a rifle-toting Meditite. On his other side, Treecko took on three opponents at once and slew them all in seconds. A muscular Monferno appeared beside him, hefting a massive war hammer above his apelike head. Cyndaquil began to turn, knowing it was too late, but at the last moment, a ring of water slammed into the Monferno's side and sent him staggering away in confusion. He glimpsed Dratini summoning her strength for another attack, before he was forced to go back to fighting by an angry Bulbasaur with a horned helmet, who charged him from the side. A bullet swiftly ended the Tackle attack. Suddenly, there were no more enemy soldiers: they were alone on the ledge and the last few hostiles were retreating up the stairs to their artillery base at the top.

"Well done, guys!" laughed Cyndaquil, surprised at the ease with which they had slain the defenders. He picked his way over the corpses and to the bottom of the stairs.

"Is it over?" Rattata asked, hauling the body that was pinning him to the ground off.

"Not yet" Cyndaquil said, grimly "there's the gun itself, up there."

"Let's get this over with…" Dratini growled, suddenly out of character, and she slithered up the stairs ahead of them.

"You okay?" Cyndaquil asked Treecko, who was standing in a dazed fashion in the center of the carnage. The grass type nodded again, and took a shaky breath. Unknown to Cyndaquil and Rattata, as they turned to follow Dratini, he pushed back a fold of his cloak to reveal a ghastly injury to his torso. A bullet had punched straight through his ribs, missing his lungs and heart by millimetres, and another had hit him in his already-wounded arm. Gritting his teeth, Treecko produced some Oran Berries, which would kill the pain, and swallowed them. He hefted his katana, which felt heavy all of a sudden, and began to follow his master up the stairs.

At the summit of the cliff, they came to a cobblestone street. It felt strange to have been climbing and walking uphill, and suddenly stand on a flat, empty street. The silence seemed to echo in their minds, which were now hardened to the noise of battle. Suddenly, the silence was broken by an ear-splitting crash; like a thunderclap, and they saw an object, trailing smoke, arc from somewhere ahead of them and speed towards the town.

"The Cannon is through that gate; inside the old church." Rattata declared, gritting his teeth and toying with his gun.

"Doubtless the last of those Pokemon are going to make a stand inside." Dratini growled.

"There's nothing we can do about it but fight. Let's go!" Cyndaquil decided, and led them forwards. The door was securely locked, but a simultaneous Slam attack from both Treecko and Dratini smashed it off its hinges. When no shots or even shouting greeted them, the four rebels entered, cautiously.

**New track. The ****theme tune for this part is "FF7, Shinra Company".**

"What the hell happened here?" gasped Ratter, jaw dropping open. Before them, on the tiled floor of the Church lay the shredded corpses of all the enemies which had retreated, minutes earlier. Blood was splashed up the walls and across the floor. A harsh bark of laughter resounded around the cavernous building and they all started. Standing at the Lectern, like a hideously ironic parody of a priest, stood a bulky figure.

"My congratulations…" the Pokemon yawned. He was an enormously fat Slacking, who wore a red, lavishly-decorated uniform over his bulging belly and thick legs. "I am General Slakos; the Slacking. Welcome!"

He smiled, evilly. Behind them, something rustled and detached itself from the shadows; a huge bear like creature, with a golden ring on its torso.

"Meet Ursaring!" Slakos hissed "He likes killing things, as is evident with these cowards."

"You killed them because they ran away?" asked Cyndaquil, horrified.

"Cowards are of no use to me in this war. I want soldiers."

"You need a new army then" laughed Ratter. Slacking's yellow eyes fell on the little Rattata, and he growled.

"My army is the finest in this land, and as we speak; it moves in to crush your little UPDF and take control of Kind."

"That's why no help has come to us…" Dratini mused, softly.

"Yes; they are embattled on every front." The fat Pokemon laughed "and soon they will be no more."

"You're a coward! You let these men fight for you and then kill them when they run away?" Cyndaquil snarled. There was the sound of a door slamming, somewhere in the depths of the church, behind Slacking, and an out-of breath Machop appeared at his side. The Pokemon snapped to attention.

"Your transport is ready; sir!" the fighting-type barked, flatly.

"I'm afraid I haven't the time to chat with you, I have other business to attend to. Ursaring will provide an excellent playmate while I'm gone, so have fun…"

As the Slacking turned to leave, Rattata brought up his weapon.

"Die, coward!" he hissed, aiming at the bloated creature's head. There was an ominous 'Ker-chak' from behind our heroes, and they all spun to face the Ursaring. It clutched a blocky, snub-nosed shotgun, with a sickle magazine curving from the bottom of it.

"Shit…" Cyndaquil breathed, as the gun came up.

**I know the music has changed quite a bit in this chapter, but bear with me:**** the next track is: "Pendulum: Blood Sugar".**

The shotgun barked, without warning, and a cone of floorspace in front of the massive bear was ripped into shreds.

"Water Pulse!" Dratini exclaimed, blasting a ring of water at the Ursaring. As he was distracted by the attack, Cyndaquil and Ratter blasted round-after-round into him, to no avail. He turned and raised the shotgun; one-handed. The gunshot was deafeningly loud to Cyndaquil, and he was thrown to the floor by the impact. Opening his eyes, the fire-type realised that he had not been hit! Treecko had tackled him; knocking him flying and taking the full force of the shot.

"NO!" he gasped "Treecko!"

The grass Pokemon lay, twisted and broken on the floor, beside the pile of dead enemy soldiers. He was completely still.

"I'm going to kill you, you sonnovabitch!" He screamed at the top of his voice, raising his rifle and firing again and again, until it emitted an ominous, empty clicking noise. Ratter opened fire from his left, wounding the enormous beast in its arm, but it simply swatted him away into a wall, where he settled to the floor, unconscious. Dratini fired a glittering ice beam, which sliced into the beast's flank. This looked like it had actually inflicted some damage, because the massive Pokemon roared and turned his gun on the little Dragon.

"Eat this!" Cyndaquil snarled, ominously. He had cast aside his rifle and discarded his cloak. The flame on his back flared up, and he opened his mouth wide and sucked in a deep breath….

…then he let fly with a Fire Blast, which scorched the floors and walls as it sped into the monster Pokemon and sent him flailing backwards, into a pillar. It swayed for a moment, and then crashed to the floor. There was a moment's silence, and then the three surviving members of the squad turned and ran to the fallen Treecko.

"Treecko!" Cyndaquil cried "Don't die!"

"M-master…" the grass type wheezed; voice coarse and unused.

"Look out!" screamed Dratini. Cyndaquil half-turned, and then a massive paw closed around his throat and he was lifted from the floor. His neck was constricted, and he began to choke; legs kicking. Dratini began to summon the energy for another ice beam, but a shaggy foot pinned her to the ground. Ratter lay, unconscious on the other side of the room and everything began to haze over for Cyndaquil.

As his vision gave out, and everything turned dark; a sudden light blazed into life, and he knew no more.

The darkness receded and Cyndaquil opened his eyes.

"What-" he muttered, and then he sat up, grunting with the needles of pain that exploded in his neck "Treecko!"

Before him stood what was once Treecko, except he was taller. His arms and legs were lightly muscled and he had feathers made from leaves on his arms.

"You've evolved!" he exclaimed. Grovyle nodded, smiling. Cyndaquil realised something:  
"Where's the Ursaring?"

Dratini appeared at his side, excided.

"Grovyle just appeared behind him and beheaded him! He's dead!" she sang.

"Rattata?" he asked, turning to see the normal type lying beside him.

"He'll be fine; just concussion." Dratini beamed.

"I can't believe you evolved, just to protect me from that thing!" Cyndaquil muttered, astounded at his friend's loyalty "Thank you!"

Grovyle spoke; his voice hoarse and rusty-sounding:

"My duty is to protect you, until the time of my or your death." He stated, simply, before falling into his lapsed silence again.

Cyndaquil got to his feet and gazed over at the massive hill of fur that had once been an Ursaring. Its neck had been severed with a single, mighty blow: Grovyle was stronger than he looked. The little fire type turned from the blood-slick furry beast and wandered over to the door that the president had escaped through in the back of the church.

"I guess we had a lucky escape there" he sighed, troubled at the thought that if this backwater town had suffered such a serious threat, what would the capital and her UPDF be facing?

"What do we do now?" asked Dratini, coiling behind him to sit and watch the sun cast its morning glow over the land. Grovyle sheathed his Katana, hoisted Ratter over his shoulder and wandered over to join them.

"What else can we do? The enemy are at our gates, literally. We fight or we die I guess…" Cyndaquil told them "but I can't ask you two to come to war with me: fighting for our town is one thing, but on the frontline is quite another."

"Don't think that we're going to go home, just because things are looking bad for Kind!" Dratini exclaimed, incredulous.

"You guys will fight with me?" he asked, hopefully.

"Of course we will, right Grovyle?" Dratini smiled. Grovyle nodded and drew his Katana from the folds of his robe, holding it up in a salute to Cyndaquil.

"Gnnnn…" Ratter moaned, coming to on Grovyle's shoulder.

"He's in too: Excellent!" Cyndaquil cheered "Let's go to the UPDF recruiting station in St.Garden and sign up. We'll make these buggers pay for ever setting foot in Kind, let alone bombing our homes and killing our families!"

**What did you think? Please leave comments, even if it's just a simple "Good" or "Bad", or elaborate if you have the time. I love it when people review my story because then I know I hav****en't just written it for nothing.**

**Oh, and as the scene of our heroes standing on a crumbled balcony (watching the sunrise) fades into the credits, the End Song from Portal kicks in.**

**Man I love Taco's!**


End file.
